Fear, Madness & Memories (LokixSif)
by EarthAngelGirl30
Summary: Continuation of Love, Magic and Lies. Will the star-crossed lovers find their happy ending, in spite of the odds being stacked against them? With Sif's memory loss, and Loki dancing the fine line between sanity and madness, events are about to spiral even further out of their control. But as wise Frigga once said, "Where there's love, there's hope."
1. Chapter 1

**_PROLOGUE_**

Thor's heavy footsteps pounded against the rainbow bridge as he tore his way towards the figures who had congregated at its ragged edge.

As he drew closer, Heimdall, the ever-vigilant guardian of the Bifrost broke away from the others, and turned to meet him.

"Where are they?"

Thor cried, panting heavily due to having ran all the way from the Throne room, without stopping for breath.

Heimdall's expression was grim, causing Thor to prepare himself for the worst.

"The Lady Sif was unconscious, she was discovered so, and has been taken to the healing rooms."

Thor's heart sank, his thoughts immediately jumping to Loki.

What had he done to her?

"And where is... ** _he_**?"

He asked gruffly, refusing to speak the name of the prisoner.

"I will question him alone."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible at present."

Thor's expression instantly went from one of agitation, to rising anger. It took a great deal of effort to keep his tone level.

"Heimdall, you know you are one of my most dearest friends, but with all due respect I must warn you against attempting to dissuade me in this matter."

Heimdall eyed him steadily with his golden gaze, his brow furrowed deeper.

"You do not understand, he is also...incapacitated."

"What?!"

Heimdall turned his attention back towards the group of Einherjar, and guards, gesturing for Thor to follow him.

The soldiers were huddled around in formation, and upon seeing Thor approach, they parted to reveal what could easily have initially been mistaken in their shadows, as a large sack strewn at their feet.

But on closer inspection, Thor's look of bewilderment became one of utter shock as he realised it was the limp, dishevelled body of Loki.

"What happened to him?"

He demanded.

Loki had been in quite a state the last time he'd returned to Asgard, and similarly he had been clamped in shackles, but this time chains had also been attached to both of his long legs, each one held by a burly, heavily armed guard.

"Are those absolutely necessary?!"

Thor barked at them,

"You're holding onto him as though he were a savage dog, complete with neck collar!"

At that, Tyr, the master of the guards stepped forward to address the son of Odin.

"My Lord, the leg restraints were to prevent the prisoner from attempting to lash out, I believe you're aware of how lethal his kicking can be? It's one of his most favoured fighting methods-"

"Why is he unconscious?"

Thor interrupted impatiently.

"We had to subdue him my Lord."

Tyr explained,

"It was done quickly and effectively by applying pressure to his jugular, he was not rendered unconscious by a blow to the head."

Thor crouched down in order to examine the trickster more closely.

He could see the imprint of red finger marks on his throat, which supported Tyr's claim, but then he also surveyed the way Loki's armour was torn in places, and the angry purple bruising and dried blood which caked his broken hands.

"What happened here? Who is responsible for this?"

"He is..."

Tyr replied bluntly, nodding towards Loki.

"...that is why we linked the restraints from his wrists, to his neck. In order to prevent him from damaging himself further."

Visibly shaken by this proclamation, Thor stood hurriedly and turned back to Heimdall.

"Have him sent to the healing rooms immediately."

"But the Allfather has demanded the prisoner be taken directly to him upon arrival."

Heimdall protested.

Thor shook his head, unwilling to back down.

"He needs his injuries assessing, by order of Frigga. That is why she sent me to meet him, to ensure his safety. I shall inform my father."

Tyr nodded, and four of the Einherjar lifted Loki between them, taking an arm and leg each. Not only had they found this to be the most effective way of carrying him, as he was a dead weight, but they were also mindful not to handle him too roughly, knowing that the Queen was still so concerned for his well being.

Heimdall leaned towards Thor, speaking in a lowered tone so as not to be overheard.

"The Lady Sif is still in the healing rooms, I would strongly advise that they be kept apart, if he discovers where she is the consequences will be disastrous."

Thor sighed heavily, before slowly nodding in agreement, before adding,

"Instruct Tyr, he will accompany them and explain this to the healers...but say nothing more on the matter. And be sure they are all sworn to silence."

Heimdall nodded, as Thor turned on his heel and marched back across the Bifrost, in the direction of the palace.

..; ** _..Sometime later_**...

Loki suddenly became aware of the sound of distant muffled voices.

In the next instant, his attention was temporarily distracted by a throbbing pain in his head, and a tightness in his throat which made it difficult to swallow.

His mind was hampered, everything was a haze and he could scarcely make sense of where he was.

Returning his focus to the voices, one of which was distinctly female, the other male, and vaguely familiar. He strained to listen, but he realised they weren't far from him, they were simply conversing in hushed tones.

That could only mean one thing, whomever these mysterious voices belonged to, they did not intend for him to overhear their discussion.

Keeping his expression steady, so as not to draw attention to himself, he desperately tried to hone in on any audible words.

The only one he heard, just at the moment, was a name.

"... ** _Sif_**.."

And **bang**! Just like that, everything came flooding back like a terrible nightmare. Perhaps it had just been a horrific dream spawned inside his own head, due to his deepest, darkest fears and insecurities.

Perhaps he hadn't lost her at all, and he'd awake to see his beautiful shield maiden beside him once more.

He could bear the uncertainty no longer, and prised his heavy eyelids open. The glare of the light that shrouded his body, impairing his vision somewhat.

Blinking rapidly, he attempted to adjust his sight to the sudden brightness.

He recognised the room he was in then, as the healing room. He was no stranger to it, having been treated here for several broken ribs after returning from his failed attempt to take control over Midgard.

But why was he here now, stretched out on the table, being bathed in the regenerating glow of the healing device.

He turned to his left, his eyes falling on one of the healers, instantly identifiable by her white robes.

And by her side, stood the familiar broad, blonde figure of Thor.

...but no Sif.

His heart immediately sank into his boots.

It hadn't been a nightmare at all. This was reality.

Instantly rattled, he made to stand, causing Thor and the healer to try and force him back down onto the table by placing their hands on his shoulders.

"Be still Loki, you need to rest!"

Thor insisted, his expression stern.

Obediently, but more through the lack of will to fight or protest, Loki collapsed back against the table heavily. His nerves were jangling, causing his hands to tremble slightly.

"Why am I here?..."

He rasped, barely recognising the sound of his own voice, which sounded hoarse and felt tender and raw when he spoke.

"We're renown for our durability, our dense bones and self healing skin regenerate quickly, I've endured far greater injuries than this-"

"Yes but your wounds have never before been self inflicted brother!"

Thor interjected sharply, rendering Loki temporarily silent.

"And why are _**you**_ here?"

Loki demanded, after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Have you come to gloat? To mock?"

"I am here at the behest of mother."

Thor answered flatly, his response clearly catching Loki off guard.

The look of surprise was easily readable on his pale, slender face, and he felt too emotionally drained to even attempt to conceal how he was feeling at present.

"What, what word does she send? And what of Sif? Where is she?"

His tone was desperate, and his red rimmed emerald eyes now stared back at Thor imploringly.

"If you truly care for Sif, then you must do whatever is necessary in order to protect her."

Thor shot back at him, bristling slightly due to having to discuss Sif with him in such a way.

Loki's wide-eyed stare was almost childlike now, and for a moment he appeared so innocent and vulnerable, it reminded him of the times he used to hide in fear from Odin, after having played one of his more devilish pranks on a member of the household.

"Go on..."

He urged somewhat apprehensively. His voice small now, so it wasn't at odds with his lost child expression.

Thor took a deep breath, his own expression grave.

Then he spoke hurriedly in order to deliver this verbal blow as quickly as possible.

"You must take full responsibility for her rash actions Loki...if you claim to have beguiled her somehow with your trickery, then she won't be held accountable for her traitorous behaviour."

A strangled gasp involuntarily escaped Loki's previously scarred lips.

The rays from the healing device, having already replaced the damaged tissue and skin cells.

"Traitorous behaviour..."

He repeated the words slowly, as if mulling the implication over in his mind.

"...loving the wicked son of a Jotun, yes I suppose that is rather appalling...Odin would be utterly horrified if he thought that anyone was capable of such a thing...but especially your betrothed. His would-be daughter-in-law."

Thor placed his large, square hands on the table, and leaned over him, making Loki feel inexplicably oppressed.

"Your actions on Vanaheim, has thrown the nine realms into chaos. News of an escaped war criminal, wielding sorcery, flitting between worlds without the Bifrost, and threatening the ruler of the Vanir, has everyone panic stricken."

He explained, his voice low.

Loki pursed his lips as he digested this new information. As much as it pained him, he wasn't sure he was capable of sullying her previously untarnished reputation. He knew he should not care. But the fact remains that he did. He loved Sif. But a selfish, dark part of him raged within, agitated and aggrieved at the very thought of denying her love of him.

"Brother please, you must speak with the Queen of the Norns, she has in her possession a potion which may reverse the effects and restore Sif's memory..."

He begged, suddenly desperate to try and rectify the damage he and Karnilla had caused.

"...at least then, when I falsely implicate myself, and bear the brunt of Odin's anger and punishment, at least she will love me once again. Even if I'm sentenced to death, I can go to the gallows knowing I still have her love."

"It is too late Loki, mother assures me there is no potion powerful enough to restore whatever feelings she unintentionally developed for you."

Thor's words were harsh, and they sliced through Loki's heart like a knife, causing his hurt to turn into feelings of resentment and blistering rage.

"It burns you to know that she loved _me_ , doesn't it brother? Do not dismiss what we shared as mere feelings, as if they're of no consequence...she WANTED ME! And you want to preserve her reputation simply because she's betrothed to you...Well, I will not falsely claim to have bewitched her, she came to me willingly, and if she cannot recall having done so, then perhaps a stint in the prisons may jog her memory...she'll have plenty of time to think over why she's there!"

He spat, barely pausing for breath throughout his tirade.

" _Damn it Loki_!"

Thor bellowed, bringing his fist down hard on the table, causing it to shake violently.

The healer shot an alarmed look at him, which he registered, and duly attempted to rein in his rising temper.

"Vanaheim have declared war against us, I am needed there to try and bring the situation under control whilst father dispatches an emissary in the hope of bargaining a peace treaty...more innocent people are dying..."

In his frustration, he turned abruptly and began to pace back and forth.

"...This is opening up old wounds that have still yet to heal..Father wanted to lock you up after what you did on Midgard, but he trusted Sif's judgement when she pleaded on your behalf. He will blame her, and you'll both be condemned, is that what you want?"

Loki, turned his face away, refusing to look at him any longer.

Shaking his head in disgust and despair, Thor began making his way to the door.

"Sif was a fool to have believed in you..."

He remarked scathingly, hoping that this cruel jibe may have the desired impact on his wretched brother's conscience.

Reasoning with him clearly hadn't worked, so in desperation he was now resorting to emotional blackmail tactics.

Just as he was about to leave the room, Loki called out to him, halting him in his tracks.

"Tell Odin it was all my doing...and that I had intended to overthrow the Vanir, and claim Njord's throne...Sif was nothing more than a hostage. Collateral damage. It's a ridiculous and dastardly enough tale, in keeping with my character enough to be believed without question."

He said quietly, still without turning to look at him.

Thor heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

"Mother will be proud of your sacrifice Loki."

He assured him gently.

He waited a moment, but Loki still refused to move or respond, so with a heavy heart he left the room, with the healer following behind.

"His fractured knuckles are repaired, and the damage to his larynx caused by the pressure applied to his carotid artery, will soon be remedied..."

She informed Thor, now they were safely out of Loki's earshot.

"...however, I cannot vouch for the current stability of his mind your highness."

Thor slowed his pace, and turned to her. The uncertainty was visible in her eyes.

"I understand..."

He replied finally,

"...which is why he must not, under any circumstances, learn of the life which grows inside the lady Sif now...understood? You must monitor her closely, but you're sworn to secrecy..."


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter One; The Condemned Prince_**

"Your highness, it is time."

The softly spoken voice of Nanna, Loki's personally allocated healer, seemed to gently filter through the room, reaching his ears.

Unmoving, he remained by the open window, savouring the sensation of the pearly rays of sunlight which danced upon his closed eyelids.

A warm breeze carried the earthy scent of Spring, tinged with hints of jasmine and lavender.

"The month is May..."

He muttered solemnly, as if to himself.

Unsure of whether this was a question or a statement, Nanna quietly responded,

"Yes my Lord."

Opening his eyes slowly, he stood for a moment admiring the delicate beauty of the apple and cherry blossom which swayed on the branches of the trees that grew outside of his room.

The convalescent facility was a small building that adjoined the healing rooms; a designated unit which served as a safe haven for Asgardian warriors who required respite after having been badly injured.

For many, the peaceful setting aided their emotional and mental recovery. But Loki had been a resident here for several weeks now, languishing in the tranquility of this glorified sanitarium, and still his mind knew no rest.

His mother, the ever loyal Frigga had not been able to visit him. But she sent words of advice and encouragement via Nanna, who did her best to bring the broken prince some comfort.

"Finding your peace within the chaos...is difficult but not impossible."

She had soothed on numerous occasions, as Loki stared blankly at the wall. Never moving, never speaking.

Eventually, as the day of his judgement neared, he broke his silence by asking after the lady Sif's well being.

And the answer brought both pain and comfort to him in equal measures...

"She is well my Lord."

Unable to supply him with any further information, Nanna had had the forethought to allow him some privacy and left him alone with his thoughts once more.

However it was no easy task having to be the one to report to Frigga, the way in which she had overheard him sobbing quietly through the wall.

After that day, Loki began to show signs of improvement. He responded well when Nanna subtly began coercing him into conversing with her.

They discussed everything from the general history of the nine realms, to the flowers that grew in the gardens. And when she once compared the colour of his green eyes to the ivy which climbed the wall outside his window, he'd laughed and responded in the way his old self would...with a slightly sarcastic, self assured remark.

And so, he gradually became something like himself again, to the outside world at least. But appearances could be deceptive, and he was a master when it came to feigning confidence and indifference.

In reality, he was a hollowed out version of his former self. Nothing more than a living, breathing shadow, that felt completely numb on the inside.

If it hadn't been for the nightmares that plagued him relentlessly, no one would never have known how deeply troubled he still was.

Every night he awoke screaming, drenched in sweat, with his hands balling into fists; clenching the bedsheets so tight that his knuckles showed white.

Each time, Nanna would reassure him that it was just a bad dream. And as he never opened up, flatly refusing to discuss his personal feelings, no one was to know what the dreams were that tormented him so.

The hardest part for Loki though, was waking up only to find his worst fears confirmed, that the nightmare he'd had about losing Sif, due to his own actions, was in fact a reality.

And the pain was more than he could bear. Each night he relived it, and then woke each day to grieve.

"...your highness...I'm sorry, but it is time..."

Nanna's gentle voice spoke again, shattering his thoughts,

"...your brother is here to escort you."

At that Loki's head whipped around, and he had no time to compose himself before Thor suddenly appeared in the doorway; his expression stern.

"Hello brother, how thoughtful of you to come and visit."

Loki remarked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"I am in no humour for a war of words today. We must go, Odin awaits you."

Thor replied curtly.

Slowly Loki made his way across the room, taking one final glance back to the window. In preparation for the worst, he wanted to store the memory of the blue sky scattered with white clouds...as he wasn't sure if he'd ever see them again.

"Tell me brother, what are the odds? Am I for the axe, or set to rot in chains for the rest of my life?"

He remarked, feigning a carefree attitude.

As he drew close, Nanna bowed her head in sadness, which didn't go unnoticed by him,

"Come now Nanna, do not weep. Your tears are wasted on me...I am glad to die."

He reassured her, as he gently took hold of her hand,

"As I shan't be seeing you again, thank you for all that you have done for me."

Unable to respond due to the sob she had to suppress, she simply curtsied as the condemned prince dropped her hand and made his way through the doorway, closely followed by Thor.

"Mother is doing everything within her power to prevent father from sentencing you to death."

Thor spoke hurriedly, as several armed guards were now heading their way,

Forcing a strained laugh, he shook his head.

"Well she really needn't bother. I do not fear death...I welcome it."

Agitated, Thor chose to ignore his remark,

"Listen well brother, mother has managed to obtain some water from the Vimur...in the event that you are imprisoned, you will benefit from it. She strongly urges you to take it-"

"In order to forget?"

Loki interrupted him sharply, and shot him an angry look,

"...I shall not!"

He added defiantly, just as the guards approached.

They soon set about clamping the convict in irons, which was a lengthy task given the amount of chains required.

Loki was considered highly dangerous, and Tyr; the master of the guards, had gone to great lengths in order to keep Loki restrained. The wrist shackles he now wore had been specially crafted; enchanted with a magical incantation in order to prevent him from wielding his sorcery,

"...and what of...her?"

He continued, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. And for some reason he couldn't bring himself to utter Sif's name.

Perceptively bristling, Thor leaned in so as not to be overheard,

"She is perfectly well, but you must put all thoughts of the lady Sif from your mind today. Do not under any circumstances mention her to father. It will only stoke his fury further."

"I am no longer particularly interested in self preservation Thor, in case you failed to notice-"

"Perhaps not, but nonetheless you ought to know that the uprisings in Vanaheim grow more serious by the day, and father lays the blame at your door. He believes you coveted Njord's throne because of your incessant need to rule. Having already attempted this on Midgard, he now views you as a very serious threat. So do not aggravate the situation further...for mothers sake."

Loki shot his estranged brother a poignant look,

"It's awfully good of mother trying to save me from the executioners blade. Tell me, is she proud of these sacrifices I've made? Of my falsely implicating myself?"

Brusquely, Thor turned, unwilling to be drawn into such a conversation.

Now was not the right time. Perhaps there never would be a right time.

The troop began making their way to the throne room in procession, with the Thunderer leading from the front. Two of the guards walked behind Loki, holding onto the chains that were affixed to him.

Knowing that they still feared him and wrongly presumed he may try to escape, amused the trickster no end. If only they knew, his will to fight had long since diminished.

In stark contrast to the last time Loki had been on trial, today the hallways were free from onlookers. Guards had been posted all around the palace, and all access denied.

Just as they neared the large, gilded doors to the throne room, Thor withdrew. At his fathers behest, this time he was not to be present during the sentencing.

Tyr, who had been overseeing the prisoners transportation from the back, made to walk by in order to lead from the front in Thor's place. Hesitating momentarily, he purposely fell into step beside Loki,

"Your conduct has taken its toll on the Allfather, silver tongue..."

He muttered under his breath, his words only just audible,

"...he looks aged, there are rumours of him stepping down, which would of course then make Thor our rightful king..."

He paused briefly for effect before adding,

"...and every king needs a queen."

Halting abruptly at his words, but quickly forced to move along, Loki's emerald eyes bored into the captain of the guard,

"Rumours have always been rife in the house of Odin. Very few have any real substance to them. It is probably little more than idle gossip."

"Perhaps. But Odin is weary. In the event Thor becomes king, his mortal will never be accepted nor permitted to reign by his side. Protocol will never permit it...and the lady Sif has unmistakably become rather fond of him again it would seem-"

"You are mistaken!"

Loki hissed, through gritted teeth, barely managing to keep his emotions under control.

He sincerely hoped that the upstart was merely trying to provoke him into an outburst.

But there was no time for further exchanges, as the doors were opened, and they entered in silence.

The room was dimly lit, and eerily silent, save for the sound of Loki's clinking chains and the heavily booted guardsmen.

At the all too familiar sight of Odin perched high upon Hlidskjalf, exuding power and dominance, Loki straightened in an attempt to resume his own confident posture. He strode forwards unashamedly with an air of defiance.

Frigga watched with bated breath from the sidelines, as her beloved son was led into the room, chained like an animal once more. And it broke her heart all over again.

Unable to resist, as he drew level with her she spoke first, her small voice shattering the heavy silence,

"Loki.."

"Hello mother, have I made you proud?"

He replied sardonically.

He could see the hurt clearly visible on her face, her sad eyes staring at him imploringly,

"Please, do not make this worse."

She begged.

"Define worse?!"

He retorted bluntly, shooting her a knowing look.

"Enough!"

Odin bellowed from his throne. His expression fierce,

"I will speak to the prisoner alone!"

Slowly, Frigga withdrew via a side entrance. Loki watched her leave with a heavy heart and for a fleeting moment he pondered over whether those words would be the last they shared.

Quickly he dismissed such thoughts from his mind and stepped forward before the mighty Allfather.

Rebellious to the last, and irritated at Odin's pompous demeanour, he boldly showed his contempt; pouring scorn upon such protocol by standing to attention, as a mock salute.

An awkward moment of silence passed before he forced a laugh,

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about."

Finally Odin replied,

"Do you truly not feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is war, ruin...and death!"

Sensing that Odin's emphasis on the word death was mostly associated with the high number or mortals who had died on Midgard, he shot back at him with what he believed to be a most valid point,

"I went down to Midgard to rule the people of earth as a benevolent God...just like you."

"We are not Gods..."

Odin retorted argumentatively,

"...we are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do."

Bemusd by his estranged father's hypocrisy and reluctance to acknowledge the staggering difference between the races when it conveniently suited him, Loki smirked,

"Give or take...five thousand years."

Blatantly ignoring his remark, Odin surveyed his adopted son closely, and the weight of his heavy gaze upon him caused Loki to shift uneasily.

"All this, because Loki desires a throne."

No longer able to contain his temper, Loki raised his voice in indignation,

"It is my birthright!"

"Your birthright was to die!"

The Allfather suddenly bellowed back,

"As a child...cast out on a frozen rock..."

This harsh declaration silenced Loki instantly,

"...if I had not taken you in.."

He continued,

"...then you would not be here now to hate me."

And hate was the right word. Loki now despised this man he'd once called father. But just as he no doubt barely recognised him for what he had become, the feeling was completely mutual.

In that instant, Loki no longer saw Odin as the man who raised him...he was nothing more than a stranger now.

As Frigga would attest, her husband had never been one for being overly loving or affectionate. But now he felt he was revealing himself in his true light, cruel, callous and lacking empathy and compassion. Even by taking him as a helpless infant in order to use him as a bargaining tool, proved how calculated and cold he truly was. It was nothing more than a strategic manoeuvre on his part.

Loki wanted to say all of this, to scream it from the top of his lungs. But he was too heartsick and soul weary. Instead he simply took a half step forward, causing the guards to pull on his chains, and responded calmly,

"Look if I am for the axe then for mercy's sake, just swing it!"

He met Odin's gaze deliberately as he continued,

"It's not that I don't love our little talks but...I don't love them."

Odin's cold expression remain unaltered,

"Frigga is the only reason you are alive and you will never see her again...you'll spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."

At that Loki shifted more abruptly as panic began to rise. The death penalty would've been much more to his liking.

The thought of being contained for an eternity whilst Sif went on living without him, out in the world...caused an icy chill to creep down his spine. Then another thought struck him...what if the rumours Tyr had taunted him about were true?

"And what of Thor?"

He blurted, visibly more agitated as his mind whirred,

"You'll make that witless oaf King while I rot in chains?!"

"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the nine realms...and then yes, he will be King."

Eyes widening in horror as Odin dealt this brutal blow, Loki could feel the guards tugging him back. But he could focus on little more than the realisation that once this happened...his precious Sif would officially become Thor's wife.

His feet turned to lead, and he had to fight the feeling of nausea which suddenly overwhelmed him.

Unable to muster a response, he allowed the guards to escort him away without protest.

After being placed in an allocated cell in the main prisons, which was a far cry from the concealed dark and dingy cell he'd occupied once before, he waited until most of the guards had dispersed before addressing Tyr; who seemed to be loitering behind.

"I need you to take an urgent message to her majesty at once. Tell her that I am willing to take her up on her offer. She will understand my meaning."

Turning his head to look up at him, Tyr regarded the condemned prince indifferently,

"Contact with her majesty is forbidden. Odin gave strict instructions."

Stepping closer to the force field which served as a powerful barrier in order to contain him, along with all of his magical abilities, Loki glared at the guard master angrily,

"Then send word to Thor...The Allfather did not stipulate that I weren't to have any contact with him, did he!"

With a slight nod, Tyr left and made his way out of the prisons.

Outside, he was met by the Thunderer himself, who looked deeply troubled,

"Tyr, where is lady Sif?"

He demanded gruffly.

"I believe she departed for Vanaheim this morning my lord, along with the Warriors three."

"And Heimdall permitted her to leave?"

He cried,

"She should not be engaging in battle, not in her present state."

"Regrettably Heimdall was not able to dissuade her, as the lady is currently unaware of her condition."

Tyr reminded him,

"And perhaps, if I may be so bold sire...should any unfortunate accident occur, it may be for the best."

Thor's wide brow furrowed into a deep scowl,

"That is too bold! The lady Sif's well being is of the upmost importance, and however unfortunate her predicament is, I do not take kindly to you implying that the possibility of her losing her unborn child is beneficial."

Lowering his head, Tyr fixed his eyes on the ground,

"My apologies your highness, I should not have said such a shameful thing."

"Well in future have a care how you speak Tyr,"

He warned, though there was no malice in his voice,

"I shall leave at once for Vanaheim and attempt to gain control of the situation."

He continued, turning as he spoke, and the two men began making their way towards the bifrost.

"I will escort the lady Sif back here to Asgard, where she can be kept under supervision...Loki will also have to be observed, his behaviour will need close monitoring. His healer informs me his mind is still fragile, and Frigga is concerned for his well being. So you must inform me at once, should he require assistance. As he requested anything?"

Pausing only briefly, before shaking his head in response, Tyr replied calculatedly,

"No sire. He hasn't."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Two; The Two Princes_**

The days dragged by like years for Loki since being in captivity. Or perhaps it was made worse by not having the comfort which Sif had once brought him.

There were times on more than one occasion he wished that he had never allowed her into his heart. Whilst it was true she had always had a place there, he cursed himself daily for his weakness. For allowing himself to open up to her. To drop his guard and grant her entry into his emotions. He would've been far better served by anger and resentment. Love was folly. He should've known better.

But, often whilst he was amusing himself by conjuring illusions in his cell, he found himself creating her as part of them. Even when he did not intend to. She was never far from his thoughts.

He'd stand, hand raised, triumphantly clutching Mjolnir. A broad smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the sound of the crowd filled his ears, applauding and chanting the name of their King.

Adorned in a fur trimmed red cloak, he had ascended the stairs many times, in preparation for his coronation. And each time, as he stood proudly before his people, his glistening eyes would scan the crowd...searching every face for hers.

Without fail, each time she would be there. Sometimes in the crowd, smiling back at him gently, clapping her hands in delight, other times she would be standing on the dais, bowing sweetly before him, the love and pride so clearly visible on her beautiful face that he became utterly lost in the illusion. In his own lie.

It was on one such occasion that Frigga paid him an impromptu visit. Having chanted the runes, she regularly invoked the vision of her imprisoned son from the privacy of her chambers in the palace. A simple act of sorcery for her, one of which she'd done many times before since his incarceration.

But upon interrupting him, she shattered his illusion. Not only catching him off guard, but also ruining the perfect moment...he had even been contemplating taking Sif in his arms, declaring her his betrothed queen to the entire kingdom..

Frigga' disturbance brought him back to reality with a serious jolt, which irritated him and he did not hide it.

"Loki."

He recognised his mother's voice above the cheering subjects, and slowly turned towards the sound. Somewhat reluctantly.

"What are you doing?"

She asked calmly.

He knew she had the ability to see his illusions just as clearly as he, so the explanation he supplied her with was plain and simple,

"I'm giving the people what they want."

He smiled crookedly at her.

"Does all this make you feel better?"

The smile vanished from his face, her words instantly irking him,

"It certainly doesn't make me feel worse!"

He retorted sharply.

"Cast enough illusions..."

She warned, her voice filled with concern,

"...and you risk forgetting what is real."

Pausing for a moment, he allowed the projection of the filled coronation room to disperse around them, like a shattered dream.

"Precisely."

He muttered, his tone fierce yet tinged with sadness.

Hastily, the wise queen attempted to change the subject, desperate to distract him from his sombre mood.

Even though she had been relieved to hear of his request for the Vimur potion and had dispatched it to him forthwith, she couldn't be certain that he had taken it.

As a result she had to think carefully about what she spoke about. Knowing only too well that should the conversation turn to the lady Sif, it could plunge him into the depths of despair.

That being said, she was simultaneously tortured by the knowledge that if he had consumed the enchanted elixir, she was having to keep such heavy secrets from him regarding his forgotten lover and unborn child. She was finding it increasingly difficult to live with the uncertainty and the guilt she felt. But she tried to ease her conscience by convincing herself that he had suffered enough.

"The books I send, do they not interest you?"

She enquired, as breezily as possible.

"Hmmf...is that how I am to while away eternity, reading?"

He scoffed, turning to stare out of his cell, momentarily distracted by the procession of new prisoners being bundled through outside.

"I see Odin continues to bring me new friends. How thoughtful."

"I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable Loki."

Frigga exclaimed, choosing to ignore his sardonic remarks.

Turning back to face her, he eyed her steadily as he ironically rested his hands against the back of one of the chairs she had provided him with on a previous visit.

"Have you?"

He spoke accusingly now, his mood darkening further.

After it having taken such an inexplicably long time to receive the potion that he'd initially asked for on the day he was sentenced, by the time it arrived Loki's frame of mind had altered somewhat. For as much as he longed to be rid of the memories that tormented him, they were also the only light in his darkness. In the end, he had not been able to take it.

But having not done so, also brought him a whole new world of pain. Something of which he'd never anticipated...the deceit.

Watching and listening to his beloved mother deceive him so cruelly, believing him to be none the wiser, broke what little of his heart remained. And in instances like this, he could barely contain his anger. The overwhelming sense of betrayal stung like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"Does Thor share your concern? Does Odin?"

He ploughed on remorselessly, visibly bristling and eager for an argument in order to vent his anger,

"It must be so inconvenient them asking after me day and night."

"You know full well it was your actions that brought you here."

She remarked, unbeknownst to Loki she was referring to the way in which he'd conducted himself in Njord's hall, abusing the power he had to terrorise the Vanir King, and the chaos which had ensued as a result.

But he did not realise this of course, and misunderstood her meaning. Which only caused him greater offence.

"My actions?!"

He repeated incredulously,

"I was merely giving truth to the lie that I had been fed my entire life, that I was born to be a king!"

"A true king admits his faults...what of the lives you took on earth?"

"A mere handful compared to those that Odin himself has taken."

He argued, pacing back towards the periphery of the cell.

"Your father-"

"He's NOT my father!"

Momentarily startled by her son's outburst, Frigga fell silent. Setting him with her most stoic of stares.

"Then am I not your mother?"

Faltering, Loki swallowed hard. Her words had pierced his already tattered heart like a well aimed arrow, knowing that to deny Odin was to also deny her. Gentle Frigga...the only mother he'd ever known. The one who had treated him so kindly and welcomed him into her home and heart as though he were her own son.

Never in all the years prior to him discovering he was adopted, had she once made him feel like an outsider or an unwelcome addition to the family.

But he was in a languorous mood. The resentment and bitterness was consuming him. He felt the hatred growing and festering inside of him but no longer knew how, or indeed whether or not he even wished, to stop it.

"You're not."

He proclaimed finally, as though speaking the words aloud were now an official admittance of his acceptance that he was no son of hers.

She looked crushed by his proclamation, which caused a tidal wave of guilt and regret to wash over him. He was almost relieved when she forced a small laugh and smiled at him knowingly,

"Hmm, always so perceptive...about everyone but yourself."

Blinking back at her, a sudden sadness replaced his frustration as he realised that despite his harshness, not only did she still love him but she also saw through his facade. How was it that even when he was attempting to fool himself into no longer caring, it did not fool her.

He walked towards her now slowly, shaking and hanging his head in shame. He wanted to apologise but couldn't quite bring himself to speak again due to the lump that had formed in his throat.

Once again, the ever perceptive Frigga understood and held her hands out towards him in a gesture she had always done whenever he had been upset as a young boy.

But this time, he was not able to rest his hands in hers. He longed for that physical contact and it cut him like a knife when his hands moved through her projection. Causing her to disappear slowly before him.

Meanwhile Thor had returned to Asgard, bringing Sif with him, along with Fandral and Volstagg.

He'd arrived back on Vanaheim just in time to partake in the final battle which served to pacify the Nine Realms, and he made it his business to report to his mother first, eager to voice his concerns for his shield maiden companion.

He arrived just in time to see the projection of Loki dispersing as he entered the room.

"You still see good in him don't you?"

He spoke, his tone almost accusing.

Turning hurriedly to face the thunderer, Frigga smiled warmly at him,

"Welcome home son."

Unfazed by his mother's attempt to swerve his question he persisted,

"Why indulge him, the gifts? The visits?"

Taking him gently by the arm, she responded with a mischievous smile which would almost rival one of Loki's,

"I think if you ask the guards they will tell you I was never there."

"Mother, Loki is not the boy you once knew."

"Nor are you..."

She replied finally, as they linked arms and walked towards the balcony,

"..and I loved you no less when your father banished you to earth."

"Do you ever regret sharing your magic with him?"

He asked, his curiosity growing.

"No. You and your father cast large shadows. I'd hoped that by sharing my gifts with Loki that he could find some sun for himself."

She explained.

Unable to appreciate the full significance of her meaning, he laughed in response.

"I admire your optimism, your compassion...I wish I could still share it."

Eager to lighten the mood by changing the topic of conversation, Frigga turned as they reached the top of the stairs,

"Now am I to take it by your presence that the nine realms still stand?"

Returning her smile now, he nodded slowly

"Yes they do...I came to give father the good news."

"And you thought to find him here?"

She smirked, knowing full well that Thor ought to know that Odin did not make a habit of frequenting the Royal chambers during the daylight hours.

"You will find him where he's most at ease."

Thor hesitated for a moment. He found it incredibly difficult broaching the subject of Sif and her pregnancy with his mother.

He was still struggling to come to terms with all that had occurred. The fact that his estranged brother had coupled with his lifelong friend and betrothed, was proving difficult to come to terms with. He never would have believed that Sif would act so recklessly. Loki yes...but not Sif.

"Mother, I must discuss the sensitive matter of lady Sif and her...current condition with you."

He said at last, fixing his eyes on the floor,

"It has been several months now since the...unhappy event...and she still shows no signs of-"

"Do not concern yourself, the healers are fully aware of the situation and inform me that it is perfectly natural...it seems Loki'e Jotun genetics are affecting the length of the gestation period."

She assured him, though noted his look of disgust as she spoke,

"...the duration varies, often lasting a lot longer than we Asgardians. But then the foetus will develop rapidly towards the end-"

"Mother please, no more.."

He begged, recoiling in horror,

"I have no desire to learn of the details, I simply must know when, and more importantly how we are to break such shocking news to her."

Closing her eyes, Frigga fought to keep her composure. The truth was she had absolutely no desire to lie to Sif about something so immensely important.

"She has a right to know she is with child, and equally who the father is."

"It is impossible. She no longer cares for Loki, she has not mentioned him once-"

"Perhaps that is because he is rarely spoken of and when he is it is contemptuous whispers...and no one dares utter his name, as though he were a demon from Helheim."

"It is to be expected. He has wreaked havoc on Midgard and Vanaheim, and I am too mindful of Sif's feelings to risk mentioning him."

He admitted,

"And father still expects me to wed her...let us not forget that he is ignorant of the whole sordid affair."

"Thor, I will discuss this delicate matter further with Eir, the elder healer. I have faith in her, she is wise and will advise us accordingly I'm sure."

The truth was Frigga could no longer bear to discuss the sorry state of affairs with her son. He did not understand, and was unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation in all it's complexity.

She excused herself, and left him to go in search of Odin.

Later that night, Sif stood on the balcony of Thor's great hall, Bilskirner; which lay in the south of the palace grounds.

The sound of laughter filled her ears as Volstagg's voice boomed from inside, retelling another exaggerated tale of glory to the amused party who had gathered inside to join in the celebrations.

The hour was late, but the revelry would no doubt continue until sunrise. Everyone was in high spirits after having returned to Asgard victorious.

Everyone except for Thor, the guest of honour. He had left, after having politely declined her invitation to take a drink with her.

The disappointment was bitter. She had almost foolishly allowed her hopes to raise when he'd returned to Vanaheim, seemingly eager to protect her. At first his presence had irritated her. Naturally sh had assumed he was underestimating her capabilities as usual. She'd shouted at him, insisting that she had the situation under control...she was the goddess of war after all. Then he'd gone and proved her wrong by dispensing of a huge rock troll with one swing of his hammer. Stealing the glory once more.

But she had mistook his concern for something else...something more. And now she was left feeling decidedly frustrated and confused.

He'd insisted on accompanying her and even attempted to dissuade her from participating in sparring. His sudden keen interest in her well being was almost as confusing as her old feelings for him resurfacing. She hadn't felt quite so enthralled by him since adolescence.

Perhaps his budding romance with the Midgardian woman had reignited the long extinguished flame.

The way in which he spurned her company now in order to be alone was an indication that he was missing the mortal. Even when Sif spoke with him, she couldn't help but notice the way in which he barely made eye contact with her. Did he feel guilty in her presence? She could not quite understand his conflicting behaviour.

Feeling in a low mood as a result of his rejection, she drank deeply.

But her desire to celebrate had diminished now since his departure.

Suddenly she became aware of a presence behind her, and upon turning found herself face to face with Tyr.

"Are you not enjoying the festivities my lady?"

He enquired politely.

Forcing a smile, she turned away and looked out across the lawns, which were bathed in the pale glow of the crescent moon.

"On the contrary, it has been a wonderful evening...I merely became lost in my thoughts."

"Indeed...the two princes must weigh heavy on your mind."

He remarked quietly, before taking a swig of ale from his tankard.

Whipping around, Sif stared at him askance,

"The two princes?"

"Yes, his highness Thor is 'ner far from your thoughts 'tis said."

He proclaimed, with a wide grin.

"Well whatever is said and by whom is of little concern to me.."

She snapped defensively,

"..and people ought to hold their tongues and mind their own business."

"Oh I couldn't agree more my lady."

"But you spoke of two princes, what did you mean by that?"

She demanded, impaling him with her stare.

"Oh that, yes...the bastard son Loki, the disgraced prince-"

"I know who he is!"

She cut him off sharply, infuriated by his casual demeanour and cryptic words,

"But he is of no consequence to me...so what are you implying captain?"

"I imply nothing and mean no offence madam by bringing it up, you know how the courtiers at the palace like to gossip...I'm sure you're accustomed to it by now."

He replied calmly.

Taking a step towards him now, Sif struggled to control her rising temper,

"I pay no attention to such inane gossiping, but if you do not speak plainly with me Tyr I will beat it out of you I swear!"

Shrinking away from her he held his hands up in mock surrender,

"That will not be necessary lady Sif, I merely speak of the rumours which surround the...unfortunate...incident."

At that Sif faltered slightly.

The 'incident' was her kidnapping. Yes. She'd been kidnapped by the wicked Loki. He had attempted to overthrow Njord, the ruler of the Vanir and had taken her hostage...so it was said.

To this day she was still yet to learn of the details surrounding why or how it had occurred. And her memory was a complete blank.

He had been sentenced to life imprisonment, and would never see the light of day again as punishment for his crimes.

But she had no recollection of the event, nor could she remember anything that had taken place before it. All she had was a hazy memory of Loki being brought back to Asgard after his attack on the earth.

...and if the truth be known, she barely even recalled Loki at all.

She had overheard snippets of conversations, people speaking in hushed tones of his wickedness. Of his evil deeds. Of his true parentage, and the way he coveted the Allfather's throne and attempted to sabotage Thor's rightful place as King. She disliked him immensely for that. But as for the man himself, she struggled to even recall what he looked like.

"What rumours?"

She managed finally, in spite of not wanting to pay any attention to idle gossip, her interest had been piqued.

"Why Loki's motives for abducting you of course...although in order to discover the truth one would have to seek an audience with the perpetrator himself-"

"Why did he do it Tyr?"

She shouted angrily, her patience rapidly diminishing.

"He's in love with you!"

He blurted, rendering her completely stunned.

"W-what? That is utterly ludicrous-"

She stammered, unable to comprehend why his words had such an impact on her.

Reeling from his declaration, she pushed past him aggressively and made her way back inside.

Suddenly desperate for answers, she sought out someone who could assist her in filling in the blank spaces of her mind...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three; Shattered Memories and Broken Hearts**

Bursting through the double doors which opened into the healing rooms, Sif wasted no time in beginning her search for Eir.

She had been the one who had cared for her upon her return after being abducted by Loki, so she hoped that perhaps with her assistance she may be able to piece the fragments of her shattered memory back together.

She wasn't entirely sure why it suddenly seemed so important to her, months had passed by since her ordeal. People still avoided mentioning the trickster's name when in her presence, she noticed that. And even found it mildly amusing, because the truth was she felt utterly disjointed and disconnected to the entire incident. It didn't seem possible that it was her who he had taken. It was almost as if it were a taboo story about someone else, that people were mindful of speaking about.

But the fact remained it _had_ happened to her. And she was overcome with the need to discover why.

Perhaps, she reasoned with herself, it was due to the alcohol she had consumed. Maybe it was having some bizarre affect on her. Or maybe, her focusing on this now was serving as a welcome distraction from pining over Thor.

All she knew was, she was driven on by a sense of urgency that would not wait until the morning.

At long last, after having checked several rooms for signs of life, she finally stumbled upon one of the healers. But it was Nanna not Eir, much to Sif's dismay.

"Where is Eir? I wish to speak with her immediately."

She announced, acknowledging the young woman's startled expression.

"L-lady Sif...the hour is late, Eir has retired to bed-"

"Then I beseech you to fetch her, it as a matter of upmost importance."

Sif insisted, her determination unwavering.

Approaching her curiously, Nanna registered the somewhat bleary look in the shield maiden's eyes and instantly recognised she'd been drinking.

"Perhaps my lady, if you could return in the morning after you have rested-"

"No I shall not rest until I speak with her."

"Is there something perhaps I may be able to assist you with?"

Nanna offered, hoping to pacify the agitated warrior.

Shaking her head dismissively Sif began contemplating searching the entire facility herself for Eir,

"No, I have questions I must ask about the disgraced prince, and-"

"Loki?"

Nanna interrupted her somewhat abruptly, rendering her temporarily silent,

"I cared for Prince Loki during his time here...is he unwell?"

Sif surveyed the healer's face closely, even though she had been deep in her cups all evening, her wits were not completely dulled.

"Loki, was in here? When? And for how long?"

"Many weeks my lady, he was admitted for convalescence after his treatment, which he received upon arrival."

Nanna explained, her face now filled with confusion,

"Did you not know this my lady?"

Tilting her head to one side, still scrutinising her face, Sif deliberately ignored the question,

"Why did he require time to convalesce?"

"His highness was suffering from severe depression and emotionally he was in a somewhat fragile state...I feared he would relapse once subjected to imprisonment."

"Fragile state?"

Sif scoffed openly at Nanna's words,

"This _is_ the wicked Loki you are referring to? I refuse to believe such a ridiculous notion."

"I assure you my lady I speak only the truth, his highness the prince was utterly heartbroken..."

She broke off suddenly, realising she had already gone too far.

But it was too late.

Eyes widening, Sif digested the healer's words and attempted to process their meaning.

"Heartbroken...why use such a phrase?"

"I, I meant nothing by it...please put it from your mind my lady. I am tired and not thinking clearly-"

She stammered, visibly flustered.

"No, why would you choose that particular expression? There must be a reason?"

Sif demanded.

"No, my lady they are nothing more than words. Please you must not place any emphasis on what I have said."

Nanna implored her,

"I wrongly assumed you were here to discuss his highness' condition."

"No, I came in search of answers in relation to why my memory is still impaired. Initially I was led to believe it was due to shock after having endured such an ordeal at the hands of that _wretch_..."

Nanna perceptibly flinched at Sif's scathing remark, and it did not go unnoticed by her.

"...I demand to know why my memory has not yet begun to return. I was seeking an explanation from Eir, yet instead I find intrigue and ignorance!"

"Ignorance my lady?"

Nanna blinked rapidly,

"I know not of what you speak."

"Do you not? Then I shall put it simply for you so that you might comprehend my meaning...you madam, appear to be ignorant to Loki's ill treatment of me, otherwise you would not wince as you did when I spoke plainly about his character. Are you besotted with him? Did he beguile you with his sorcery?"

"No!"

Nanna replied tersely, her peachy complexion colouring slightly,

"He did no such thing. But he is not the devil some would paint him to be."

Incensed by the woman's proclamation, Sif rounded on her angrily,

"You dare defend a traitor such as he? Despite everything he has done, to his family, to the kingdom, to the nine realms...to me?!"

"He did not mistreat you my lady."

Nanna pointed out, bravely standing her ground in spite of the shield maiden oppressing her,

"You cannot remember, but he would never..."

Her words trailed off and she lowered her head, reluctant to meet Sif's eyes.

Unable to understand why her guts suddenly felt as if they were twisting into knots, Sif hurriedly backed away from her.

It was warm and claustrophobic in the room, and her nerves were jangling as she desperately tried to make sense of everything.

"My lady, I shall fetch Eir...perhaps she can put your mind at ease."

Nanna was saying now, though she barely heard her.

"No, I no longer wish to discuss the matter."

"But my lady, if you have concerns in relation to your memory loss-"

"No!"

Sif yelled, her agitation growing,

"There is nothing more to say at present."

With that she turned on her heel and marched away, back through the maze of hallways towards the doors.

She felt incredibly hot, and nauseous. Which she attributed to the vast amount of ale she'd consumed. She really felt like collapsing in her bed, and sleeping for an eternity. But driven by her nagging curiosity and desire to uncover the truth, she realised she would not be able to rest until sated.

Perhaps Tyr had been right. As much as she loathed to admit it, perhaps there was only one person who could supply her with what she needed.

Loki lay flat on his back on the narrow bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. To the untrained eye it might've appeared he was absentmindedly lounging in an attempt to sleep. But he was desperately trying to steady his breathing and calm his mind.

He despised night time the most. The prisons were eerily quiet and the heavy silence was stifling, as the walls began to close in on him.

Thoughts of the outside world no longer brought him any comfort, only misery. All the simple things that he once took for granted he now longed for. He wanted to smell the jasmine in the summer night air, hear the nightingale singing in the woods, and see the pale beauty of the moon in the midnight blue sky streaked with grey.

But he was trapped...trapped and suffocating. His heart beat heavily within his chest, serving as a reminder that he still had one and it actually worked. But for what purpose? He would much rather be dead. To die with dignity, honourably was what he wanted. To escape the emptiness he felt inside. To escape the humiliation and torture of being contained like a fish in a bowl.

Fighting the urge to curl up into the foetal position and bury his face in his pillow, he allowed his thoughts to drift to Sif. He closed his eyes tightly and pictured her beautiful face. Her full, rose bud lips and large expressive brown eyes. The faint scent of heather in her hair, and her gentle touch. His heart ached at the memory but it temporarily soothed his frayed nerves and helped quell the panic attack.

Just then his keen senses began tingling and the small hairs on the nape of his neck rose as the familiar feeling of being watched crept over him. Someone was approaching his cell. He could hear them now. No doubt it was Tyr, returning to taunt him again with tales of how his once beloved Sif was revelling in Thor's company.

Slowly he swung his long legs off the bed and rose, though it took great effort. His limbs, like his heart, felt like lead. But being a master of deception he managed to compose himself.

It wasn't however to last, when instead of seeing the familiar figure of a guard as expected, he was met with the sight of Sif. His Sif. She was here. She had come.

Blinking rapidly, the astonishment was clearly visible in his expression. His heart leaped from his chest and up into his throat, and his mind struggled to process what he was seeing. Was she real? Had he finally gone completely mad? His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Perhaps he had finally lost himself in his illusions. Had he forgotten what was real? The lines of reality and fantasy had become blurred and distorted.

"Sif?"

He managed in a small voice,

"After all this time, you came."

She stared back at him as he approached the barrier.

Her facial expression was unreadable but her eyes were cold. They no longer looked upon him lovingly. He should have anticipated this change in her but still it hurt, and nothing could have prepared him for the gravity of her words when at last she spoke.

"You...you are Loki?"

His brow furrowed,

"Wha-what?"

She registered the look of confusion on his face. His slender face with its high-arched cheekbones, smoothly shaven and unfamiliar to her.

He looked like an angel. A dark angel with his complexion like ivory and mane of raven hair. So this was the fallen prince. The traitor. Her captor. His innocent face was deceptive. He was the harbinger of chaos, the threat to Asgard and the one solely responsible for her current state of mind.

"Don't you know me Sif?"

He was asking now, looking pained.

She need not reply. Her silence spoke volumes. She did not even recognise him. And in that instant he felt as though his heart was being torn from his body and ripped in two by her bare hands.

But he needed for her to say it. To speak the words aloud.

"Tell me!"

He yelled in anguish.

Startled by his outburst, Sif took a step backwards,

"There's nothing..."

She replied shakily,

"...you are unknown to me. I feel nothing when I look upon you. Not even the smallest spark of recognition."

Turning away abruptly in order to hide the tears that had formed in his eyes, he fought to regain his composure. His legs threatened to buckle at the knee, and he daren't speak for fear of his voice cracking with emotion.

"Tell me why that is so? I cannot remember...what did you do to me? I must know."

She continued.

Swallowing hard, he managed to suppress a sob but when he spoke his voice was strained,

"I let you go..."

A heavy silence hung between them, the atmosphere tense as she desperately tried to make sense of his words.

He had a reputation for being a riddler, for speaking cryptically and not answering plainly.

Her temper suddenly flared and got the better of her,

"Do not play games with me trickster-"

"Ah now there's the Sif I know and love."

He jokingly interrupted, forcing a tight smile.

She faltered, his choice of words seemed to hit a nerve somewhere deep inside. She felt something stir within her and it made her feel uneasy. Anger, resentment and contempt. They were the main feelings she ought to harbour towards this man. This stranger to her. And not only was she driven by the need to know why she no longer knew him, she also needed to know something else...

"Just what am I to you?"

She demanded,

"Thor tells me nothing-"

"What of Thor?"

He snapped, suddenly irritated by the mere mention of the Thunderer.

Whipping around to face her, he surveyed her closely,

"More importantly my lady, what is he to you?"

Unable to find the words to respond, she reluctantly met his emerald eyes and saw them darken. Hardening along with his expression.

"You're nothing..."

He spat, his velveteen voice now dripping venom,

"...you're nothing to me."

Turning on his heel, he walked away from the periphery of the cell and stood with his back to her.

"But you-"

"We're done!"

He growled, without turning around.

Frustrated and angered, she made to storm away, when suddenly she became overwhelmed with the feeling of nausea and heat which seemed to engulf her. She staggered slightly, the noise of which instantly captured Loki's attention, and brought him hurrying to the edge of the force field once more.

"Sif, what is wrong?"

His voice was filled with concern, but she could scarcely hear him.

The room was spinning for her now, and everything fell out of focus. All she could feel was the intense heat which seemed to be consuming her from the inside out.

"Guards! Help! Please help!"

Loki called out, which brought several of them running towards her.

Agitated, all he could do was look on helplessly with growing apprehension as they took her gently by the arms between them, and began assisting her back out towards the doors.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter Four; Undercover Enemies_**

Now that work on the newly reconstructed Bifrost had been completed, it allowed Thor to leave without Odin's assistance, to go in search of his beloved Jane.

She had somehow slipped from Heimdall's sight, so the mighty Thunderer had not hesitated to return to Midgard, even at the risk of angering his father who continued to try and encourage him to court Sif.

Odin was ignorant of the lady's condition, but not of the clear interest she had begun to show in Thor once again.

In Thor's absence, another batch of marauders were brought back under arrest from Vanaheim. But unbeknownst to Heimdall two of the prisoners were not all they seemed to be.

The first being Algrim the strong; a dark elf of Svartalfheim and Malekith's loyal lieutenant. Concealing his identity behind a bestial mask, he fell in line with the criminals in order to be led away to the prisons. His intent was to infiltrate Asgard, and destroy the shield generator which protected the palace from attack.

The second imposter had an agenda of their own, and was none other than Amora the enchantress herself.

Using her sorcery to disguise herself as one of the guards, she slipped away unnoticed, and headed for the healing room.

Upon reaching her destination she proceeded to alter her appearance yet again, to that of a healer, so she could gain access to her love rival, Sif.

Finding the shield maiden on one of the healing tables, shrouded in a cool mist that served to sustain her temperature, she immediately put her plan into action.

Recognising the white robes of a healer, Sif instantly called out to her,

"Excuse me, but where is Eir? I've been detained here overnight and still no one will provide me with an explanation for why this treatment is necessary."

Smiling sweetly, Amora approached her slowly, with a face Sif did not recognise,

"What have you been told?"

Sif's brow furrowed as she recounted the information that Eir had given her,

"Very little other than that my temperature is unstable. It is causing me nausea and dizziness."

Reaching into her robe, Amora suddenly produced a small glass bottle which contained a green liquid,

"You poor unfortunate child. You have been suffering with a form of retrograde amnesia. Your memory has been impaired of late, has it not? This elixir will aid your generic memory, and recover the memories you have lost."

Eyes widening, Sif reached for the bottle without though or hesitation. Removing the cap with trembling fingers, she lifted the dainty bottle to her lips and swallowed down the contents. Draining it completely.

"You'll soon remember, now you must rest."

Amora assured her kindly.

The potion began to take affect almost instantaneously, as Sif's head began to spin. Her grip loosened and the bottle fell to the floor, shattering on impact.

Flashbacks flew through her minds eye, and a whole myriad of emotions came flooding back, overwhelming her. She fell back against the table, reeling from the impact of her restored thoughts and feelings.

She was barely coherent when Frigga arrived, and she hadn't even noticed Amora slip away amidst her confusion.

"My dear Sif, I have just learned of your being here."

The queen spoke gently, resting a hand on her forehead in spite of the curtain of cold air which surrounded the warrior.

Blinking rapidly, Sif grasped Frigga by the arm in desperation,

"I...I _remember_..."

She stammered, tears forming in her eyes.

Frigga held her breath in anticipation, almost too afraid to speak.

". _..I loved him_.."

Sif continued, attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat,

"...and I'm...I'm expecting his _child_."

At that Frigga almost reeled in shock. She could not understand how or why her adopted son's lover had unexpectedly regained her memory and discovered such a revelation.

Brushing her face tenderly with the back of her hand, Frigga leaned closer to her,

"Oh Sif I am so sorry that you have had to go through such an emotional ordeal. And I understand how daunting this must be, but you shall not face this alone. I vow to be there for you every step of the way."

Sitting up, Sif allowed herself to collapse into her embrace; sobbing quietly as she held her tightly in her arms. She found the Allmother's arms soothing, and her reassurance comforting.

"Thank you my queen, words alone cannot express my gratitude."

"There is no need for such expressions of thanks..."

Frigga assured her,

"...I am merely doing my duty as a queen, a friend...and a grandmother."

At that Sif hesitantly pulled away in order to look at her,

" _Grandmother_?"

She repeated quizzically.

"Why yes of course. I know one should be wary of early jubilation, and the circumstances surrounding your pregnancy are sorrowful...but I am still happy for both yourself and my son."

Heat flushed Sif's face and it was not due to her temperature.

"My queen, Thor and I have not..."

Her words trailed off, as the embarrassment crippled her.

Frigga was frowning now, and apprehension began to stir, though she kept her composure as she desperately did not wish to alarm the already fragile shield maiden.

"Lady Sif, you _are_ aware of who the father of your unborn child is?"

Eyes rounding in surprise, Sif's bewilderment was evidently visible in her expression,

"Yes of course my queen...it is Holdur."

" _Holdur_?"

Frigga exclaimed, clearly horrified by her proclamation.

It was then that the perceptive queen glanced downwards, and her gaze fell upon the broken glass,

"How did you learn of this Sif?"

"The healer..."

Sif managed weakly,

"...the elixir worked-"

" _Which_ healer?"

Frigga interrupted, unable to disguise the urgency in her voice.

"She was not familiar to me, why?"

"What _colour_ was this elixir you speak of?"

Frigga was demanding now, as she crouched down to examine the fragments of the broken bottle.

"It was green and tasted of mint."

Sif replied, feeling panicked by the Allmother's reaction.

"And did it have a sour aftertaste?"

Frigga went on.

"Yes it did... _why_?"

Swinging her legs off the bed, Sif made to stand but was overcome with nausea.

Clasping a hand to her mouth, she slumped back onto the table whilst simultaneously fanning her face with her free hand.

"You must not excite yourself my child, be still a moment whilst I fetch Eir."

Hastily Frigga left the room, only to be approached by Nanna in the corridor.

"Your highness, Prince Thor is here...he brings with him the mortal Jane Foster, she has been afflicted by a most curious condition which is not of her world, the likes of which myself and Eir have never seen."

Agitated, Frigga took the young healer aside and spoke hurriedly to her,

"Lady Sif must not come into contact with the Midgardian at present, I fear this may upset her further...is Eir treating the woman now?"

"She is attempting to, your majesty...and several other healers are in attendance. And his Royal highness the King is on his way, I'm afraid he learned of the mortal's presence here on Asgard."

Nanna informed her.

"Then you must go and tend to the lady Sif, there are other sinister forces at work here. I fear she has consumed a potion which has created false memories."

" _False memories_?"

Nanna repeated, aghast,

"Is such a thing possible?"

"Yes, I am afraid so. And she is now aware of her condition, but believes her ex lover, Holdur, is responsible for fathering the child."

The queen explained.

Nanna stared back at the Allmother askance, barely able to comprehend what she was hearing,

" _Holdur the fallen warrior_? The former captain of the guards who was fatally wounded by Lorelei?"

"Yes the very same. And one must bear in mind how he callously spurned Sif in favour of the sorceress, so have a care how you converse with her. Do not risk causing further upset or alarm. But endeavour to seek further information..."

Frigga instructed, as she headed towards the double doors,

"...I will discover _who_ is responsible for this, and I shall not rest until the lady Sif learns the _true_ identity of the father."

Loki sat casually in his cell reading a book on necromancy, indifferent to the chaos that had erupted within the prisons.

The Asgardian prisons were renown for being impenetrable, so it was evident that an extremely powerful and impressive force was at work within their midst.

He hadn't witnessed the horror or violence, as Algrim created an explosion which enabled him to escape. And he remained impassive as hoards of prisoners now rioted outside of his cell; fighting the guards and rushing for the doors in the hope of escaping with their lives.

It was only after some time seemed to pass, and the fracas did not seem to calm down, did he eventually begin to take notice. Vaguely amused by the antagonists' efforts and the way in which the guards were struggling to bring the situation under control, he peered out, observing the carnage with growing interest.

Amongst them all, one figure in particular stood out from the rest of the crowd. A hideous beastly looking creature, that reminded him of a long forgotten race of dark elf warriors known as the _Kursed_. He briefly recalled having seen illustrations of such monsters in the books he'd studied as a child.

But it was not possible that this was one of them. The legend of the dark elves had faded into the mists of time, their race all but extinct and their warriors vanquished by his adoptive grandfather _Bor_ , many eons ago.

As the beast walked by his cell, it seemed to hesitate as it took in the way in which the fallen prince observed it.

Loki could sense the power that surged within it, and as it cautiously approached they stared back at each other, and he could not resist chancing a small smile. He admired it for wreaking such havoc, and was envious of the power it possessed. Because it was now evident that this _one_ creature alone was responsible for freeing all the other inhabitants, and had somehow singlehandedly destroyed the powerful force field which had previously contained it. The likes of which had _never_ been achieved before.

For a brief moment, he found himself hoping that it would free him also. But it became apparent as it withdrew and continued on it's way that it had no intention of doing so.

Slightly disappointed, the smile faded from Loki's face. His clever, handsome face which did not fit with what the creature wanted.

Algrim had now become Kurse, but despite his animalistic qualities, was no fool. He recognised something in Loki which made him uncomfortable.

His intention was to unleash mayhem, and the other inmates were reckless barbarians who served his purpose.

But this tall, dark stranger was isolated; imprisoned alone, he exuded confidence, intelligence and arrogance. Unlike the seemingly witless thugs who were now running amok, _this_ individual was calm, collected and no doubt cunning. Yes, Loki was an anomaly that Kurse was not willing to risk unleashing.

"You might want to take the stairs on the left."

Loki advised, his voice tinged with indignation.

And with that the monstrous man was gone.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Loki attempted to return to his book, feeling somewhat dejected.

But his concentration was soon shattered again, this time by a lone guard who appeared to be hovering outside his cell.

Lifting his gaze briefly from the page, the trickster regarded him dismissively,

"I played no part in this, so spare me the interrogation."

"Your omission of innocence surprises me Lopt, but on this occasion I'm rather inclined to believe you."

Came the reply, which caused Loki's head to snap up.

" _Amora_?"

He ventured, his dark brows raising in astonishment.

"Your perceptiveness has not dulled during your incarceration."

She quipped, speaking with her own voice.

Loki was on his feet now, swiftly approaching the barrier,

"You are fortunate to have the protection of this force field, for it is the only thing preventing me from strangling you with my bare hands. And believe me I would _revel_ in choking the life out of you."

"Come now Lopt, can we not let bygones be bygones?"

"No we cannot, you _traitorous whore_!"

He spat, his face now contorting with rage,

"You betrayed me to the Vanir king-"

"And _you_ betrayed _me_ sly one, you did not uphold your end of the bargain. I assisted you in your little game by posing as Njord's daughter. _Together_ we succeeded in making the warrior wench jealous and in return you promised to see the charade through until the end."

Amora interrupted, scarcely pausing to draw breath.

Loki eyed her coldly, unmoved by her apparent anguish.

"And that is _precisely_ what it was Amora, a _charade_. Nothing more. Surely you did not honestly believe that I intended to go ahead with that _sham_ of a marriage? If you did then you'd be the fool I've always taken you for."

Taking a step nearer, the enchantress' voice dropped to a menacing whisper,

"You will _not_ betray me Lopt. Your beloved Sif no longer desires you, and you are destined to rot here whilst she continues to pine for Thor.."

Visibly bristling, Loki turned his back on her abruptly. His need to unleash his anger upon her was more than he could bear. He felt dangerously close to imploding due to the blistering fury that consumed him.

"...mark my words Lopt.."

She continued, vehemently..

"..;should you _ever_ gain your freedom, I _will_ return...and I _will_ be your bride!"

Forcing a tight smile, he turned slowly in order to impale her with his stare,

"I am under no obligation, our alliance dissolved the moment you sought revenge for your imagined slight-"

"Be silent you pig, and heed my warning...if you spurn me again you will suffer for it."

Cocking his head to one side, he pursed his lips in an over exaggerated manner,

"Ooh...it burns you still, that I do no reciprocate your feelings ..."

He mocked remorselessly,

"...I was a young, impressionable fool when you seduced me. You were a woman twice my age, who abused my mother's trust when she appointed you as my mentor. I was just another in a long line of apprentices you bedded for your own amusement, and you've always known that I care for another-"

"And she will never return your affections!"

Amora hissed angrily, her flinty eyes glistening with hatred,

"I have made certain of that."

Loki's face fell, and his guts began to churn,

"What have you done, you _deplorable harp_ y?"

"That is for me to know, and for you to find out..."

She taunted,

"..so think on what I have said. If you ever find yourself free of these walls, you will not only suffer _my_ wrath but that of my ally as well."

"Your brutish minion, Skurge? He does not pose any threat to me. You're going to have to do better than that Amora."

"It is not Skurge that I speak of, circumstances have much changed during your absence Lopt...I have joined forces with a much greater threat. One who is known to you, and is very eager to unleash his vengeance upon you."

His face paled at her words, and beads of sweat began to form on his brow as terror suddenly gripped him.

Relishing his alarm, she smiled a sickening self-satisfied smile,

"That's right Lopt... _Thanos_ is not yet done with you."


End file.
